Little Talks
by googlegravity
Summary: Mabel always felt like there was something off in Gravity Falls, but Dipper told her not to worry about it. Oneshot. Based off of Of Monster and Men's song, Little Talks.


**AN: This is my first shot at a Gravity Falls fanfic, and also my first try at a songfic (which I don't even know if FFNet allows…?) so I hope you guys like it. Also, I must recommend you listen to Little Talks.**

* * *

 _I don't like walking around this old and empty house_

 _So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear_

Mabel gritted her teeth as she explored the hallways of the Mystery Shack. She and her brother, Dipper, had only arrived that morning, but the house already gave her weird vibes. There seemed to be an endless amount of rooms, some filled to the brim with odd taxidermy and other strange "attractions," and others, completely bare, barring some cobwebs and dust. The shadows seemed to form in shapes of monsters, unnerving her to no end. She gulped and ran back up to the bedroom she'd be staying in for the rest of the summer.

Mabel swung open the door, catching the attention of her brother who was sprawled out on his bed, reading an ancient copy of _The Hardy Boys._ Dipper seemed to be enjoying the vacation thus far, something Mabel wasn't expecting. He was usually more cautious and worried about new places. Though, to be fair, Mabel was usually more relaxed about a change of pace. Dipper cleared his throat, "Everything okay, Mabel?"

Mabel felt her chin quiver, "This house freaks me out."

Dipper got up from his bed, calmly setting down his book. "Mabel, everything's fine." Mabel wasn't convinced. "Come on," Dipper continued, extending his hand, "I'll show you."

Mabel stared at her brother for a moment, not sure if she really wanted to go with him, but she complied. Hand-in-hand, the brother and sister visited all the rooms in the house. Dipper stopped in each one to turn on the lights, or to point out the ridiculousness of the attractions. Mabel found that soon, she was laughing. Maybe this vacation would be alright after all.

* * *

 _The stairs creak as I sleep,_

 _It's keeping me awake_

 _It's the house telling you to close your eyes_

"Good night, Mabel," Dipper called out from across their bedroom.

"'Night, Dipping Sauce," Mabel mumbled. Moments passed, and soon, Dipper's breathing slowed as he fell asleep. The exhaustion from travelling having seemingly no effect on her, she sat up cautiously, looking around the room. She had liked the room when she first saw it – two twin beds for the two twins, slanted ceilings, a charming window seat, even their own loft area (though it was currently being used for more of their Grunkle's storage) – it was everything she could've wanted in a room and more. But as the moon cast shadows, the room took on a different feeling. The beds felt like they were hiding in the corners, the ceiling felt too close, the window left odd reflections, and behind the boxes in the loft looked to be tiny sets of eyes. She blinked, forcing herself to think rationally, something she wasn't good at. She imagined what Dipper might say – it's just your imagination. You're safe here, you know that. Everything is fine. She repeated these things to herself.

But then she heard a noise.

A creak, barely noticeable. It seemed to come from the stairs. "It's just your imagination, Mabel," she whispered to herself. Another creak, louder this time. She held her breath. Another, louder still. She glanced around the room for a weapon, settling for a broom propped up in the corner. She grabbed it, her grip immediately tightening until her knuckles turned white. She slowly opened the door, sneaking a glance at the stairs.

Nothing.

She braced herself, and slowly slid out the door. Still, she couldn't see anything. She sighed in relief – it really was just her imagination. She turned to the door, when there came another creak. She whipped around. Still, nothing. She shook her head. She'll be fine, she told herself. But still . . .

She put the broom where she found it and eased her way over to her brother's bed. "Dipper," she whispered, "Dipper, are you awake?"

He opened his eyes, groaning. "I am now."

"Dipper, I think I'm hearing things."

"You're fine," Dipper mumbled. Mabel nodded, tears starting to build up. She stepped towards her bed. "Mabel, wait." She turned around. Dipper sighed, "you can sleep with me tonight if that will help."

"Thanks, Dipdip," she breathed, laying down beside him.

* * *

 _And some days I can't even trust myself_

 _It's killing me to see you this way_

Soon, a week had passed in Gravity Falls. Mabel's nerves were still shot. She was growing paranoid, and sleep continued to evade her. Dipper continued to assure her that everything was fine. "I get that this place may look like it's straight out of a horror movie, but everything's all fake, Mabel," he would say sometimes, a joking lilt present in his voice, "All the 'horrors' here are fake. I mean, you've seen the shows Grunkle Stan puts on, right?"

 _'Cause though the truth may vary_

 _This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore_

But soon he grew more worried for her. "Mom and Dad spoke wonders of this place, Mabel," he would say, "there's nothing wrong here." Still, her mood never improved. "We're safe, Mabel. I don't know what else I can say."

 _There's an old voice in my head_

 _That's holding me back_

"I would believe you if I could, Dipper," Mabel mumbled, "and I really want to. But I keep on feeling like I'm seeing something, or I'm hearing something, and I just can't shake it."

 _Well tell her that I miss our little talks_

Dipper began to take her concerns less seriously. "If you see it again, let her know I say, 'hi,' okay?"

 _Soon it will all be over, and buried with our past_

 _We used to play outside when we were young_

 _And full of life and full of love_

Mabel's eyes had filled with tears, but she was laughing with him. "Alright, Dip," she'd say. Then they'd go back to normal, he'd read, or tell her interesting things he found out. She knitted her sweaters, and scrapbooked, and crafted, and it felt like everything was just like it was in California, everything was normal. Everything _was_ normal. It was just that Mabel wasn't, but wasn't that funny? Shadows that moved? Whispers in the wind? They could be real, but they definitely were not.

 _Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right._

 _Your mind is playing tricks on you my dear_

"It's just your imagination," Dipper would say.

"My silly, runaway imagination," Mabel would confirm, "and soon we'll be home."

 _'Cause though the truth may vary_

 _This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore_

* * *

Dipper put up signs for the shack, a BABBA song stuck in his head that he quietly sung to himself. "Disco girl, coming through . . ." He tapped a nail into a tree to the rhythm, "that girl is y-" he frowned, tapping the tree with his hammer. Instead of the usual solid thud, this produced a metallic clang. He frowned. Upon closer inspection, he found faint lines of what seemed to be a door. He opened it up, revealing a dusty old contraption. He flicked the switches with curiosity. A door slid open in the ground behind him. "What the-?" He peered down the small hole. There was a book in there, shrouded with layers upon layers of dust and cobwebs. He picked up the book, blowing the grim away to reveal a shiny three on the cover. He opened it, reading it. By the time the sun had set, he had read it front to back. He looked up from the book, realising what it all meant.

They weren't safe.

 _Don't listen to a word I say_

"Mabel!" Dipper was running, nearing the edge of the woods. Mabel was on the front porch, reading through one of her teen magazines. She looked up at the sound of her voice. Dipper ran towards her, struggling to catch his breath. "Mabel," he panted, "I found this journal . . . you were right . . . about everything."

Mabel smiled serenely. "Of course, I'm not, Dipper." She cocked her head, as if she was confused, but she smiled like she was sure. "It's all been in my imagination. It's all been in my head. We're safe here."

"No, Mabel," Dipper pleaded. Everything you were worried about, it's all described in here," he held up the journal. "Mabel, I don't think we're safe here."

"Of course we are, Dipdip." She stood and laughed, "I'm off to see Candy and Grenda."

 _The screams all sound the same_

"No, Mabel," Dipper pleaded, confused, but she didn't stop.

 _Though the truth may vary_

Dipper frowned, sitting down on the steps, and flipped through the journal again. "I can't believe she was right," he mumbled to himself. His eyes landed on a page filled with pictures, descriptions, and diagrams of trolls. He chewed his lip nervously. Everything pointed to them.

 _This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore_

A high-pitched scream broke the silence Dipper hadn't realized had fallen. He dropped the book in shock. "Mabel," he breathed, running towards the direction of the sound. His footsteps made dull thuds on the ground, his heart pounded in his chest, leaves and branches whipped as he ran past them, but he didn't hear her again.

* * *

He wouldn't hear her again.

* * *

 _You're gone, gone, gone away,_

 _I watched you disappear_

 _All that's left is a ghost of you_

* * *

"Good morning, Mabel," Dipper mumbled reflexively. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and sat up, facing the empty bed across from him. He was confused at first, as he had been every morning for the past two weeks. But just as every other morning, it all came back to him quickly, the shock having its same effect every time. Tears, no longer of sadness or shock, but of a quickly diminishing hope began to well in his eyes once more.

"I'm so sorry," he choked, "I'll find you, I swear."

* * *

 _Now we're torn, torn, torn apart_

 _there's nothing we can do,_

 _Just let me go, we'll meet again soon_

* * *

Dipper pushed his way through thick brush, hoping that he'd find something, anything. When once again he found nothing, tears blurred his vision. He let out a sob, and dried his eyes, commanding himself to focus, for Mabel, but it all felt so useless now.

He groaned, his head pounding. It hadn't stopped since he found the journal. He sat down at the base of a tree, knowing he wouldn't want to get up when the time came. He hung his head low, thoughts swirling and bubbling until it all formed a gray mush. He blinked away tears, looking upwards to stop the flow. He shook his head, looking off into the distance.

He saw a flash of red.

 _Now wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around_

 _I'll see you when I fall asleep_

He got up, startled. He now noticed tiny, barely noticeable footprints. "The trolls," he muttered, running to follow their trail. Not too long after, he heard quiet murmurs. Illegible at first, but then,

"Our queen."

"What shall we do?"

Dipper's heart jumped into his throat. "Mabel," he called frantically. The murmurs quickly diminished, and tiny steps could be heard leaving the area. He followed the noise until

* * *

he saw her.

* * *

"Mabel," Dipper cried.

 _Don't listen to a word I say_

"No."

He ran towards her body, his legs faltering, and he fell.

"No, Mabel, please, no," Dipper sobbed, grabbing her arms, her face, her hands. He crouched over and wailed. "Mabel, no."

 _The screams all sound the same_

Dipper couldn't sleep anymore. The stairs creaked, the shadows formed monsters, eyes watched him, and the walls caved in.

 _Though the truth may vary_

Tires skidded on the dirt driveway. Dipper's parents ran towards their son, hugging him tight, and they didn't let go.

 _this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore_

Dipper stopped in front of his sister's bedroom door. His heart felt weighted, but no more tears would fall.

"Good bye, Mabel."


End file.
